


Firestarter

by Scylla87



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fire as a Turn On, Inappropriate Behavior, M/M, Masturbation, Therapist AU, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 21:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17231186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scylla87/pseuds/Scylla87
Summary: Martin Stein knows that he shouldn't be attracted to one of his patients, especially one who is clearly having his own sexual issues, but he just can't help himself. Especially when he sees a chance to "help" him through his issues and get what he wants at the same time.





	Firestarter

**Author's Note:**

> So I am not sure where this one came from. It just kind of popped into my head, and I thought I would give it a shot. Sorry you have witnessed this.

Firestarter:

Dr. Stein looked at the man on the couch across from him and knew that this was a bad idea. He should have listened to Jefferson when he suggested that he refer this particular patient to another therapist, but listening to his young colleague had never been a strong suit of his. Jefferson Jackson was scarcely more than a boy. What did he know about these matters anyway? A lot, apparently. He really should have listened, but when he was not sitting across from Mick Rory, it was easier to convince himself that his interest was purely professional. It wasn’t. He knew that now.  Not for the first time in their session, he adjusted the notebook in his lap to hide the bulge in his pants that this man was frequently the cause of. “How are you today Mr. Rory?”

 

The question was answered with a grunt, the only response Dr. Stein got some sessions. He was used to this, not just from this patient but others as well. It was always the ones that were being forced to go to therapy that were the most resentful of the process. Usually they came in two general types: those that thought they didn’t need therapy and those that thought it wouldn’t work. He was pretty certain by this point that Mick was in the latter category. The man clearly needed help, and that only made his inappropriate feelings all the worse. “I thought we could start at the beginning today,” he said, desperate for a way to begin.

 

The glare on his patient’s face became more pronounced, but he knew that he couldn’t get deterred. “You started lighting fires as a teenager, current?”

 

The question didn’t even receive a grunt of acknowledgement. Of course, Stein already knew the answer anyway. It was all in his file. Mick Rory had been in and out of therapy since before his first stint in lockup as a teen. While Stein wasn’t privy to all the notes these other doctors had taken, he could guess what he would read if he had been. Pyromania. An intense obsession with fire. The disorder was rare, arsonists who were also pyromaniacs even rarer. He resisted the urge to share that information. Something told him that Mick had heard that particular tidbit before. He didn’t need to be told that he was obsessed; he’d known long before any medical professional ever told him. Careful to keep his eyes trained on the man’s face, Stein wondered if any of the others had gotten to the nature of Mick’s obsession like he had. Had any of them noticed the telltale signs like he had? Or was he the only one who was depraved enough to pay enough attention to see? If he was honest, he didn’t want the answer to either. But he was getting off track. This was supposed to be about helping this man to the best of his ability. He cleared his throat and asked a different question, “What was the first thing that you ever set on fire?” It was another one he partially knew the answer to, but his knowledge was scant enough that he hoped that Mick would still answer.

 

Instead of grunting, the man shrugged. “What did we agree about lying?” Mick looked back at him impassively. “We both know that you remember. Even if you tried to forget, you couldn’t. So what was the first thing you set on fire?”

 

Mick shrugged again. “Just some old building,” he muttered. “A barn or something.”

 

“This was on your parents’ farm?”

 

“A few farms over. Folks had moved on. No one cared what happened to their place, so I torched it.”

 

Stein’s eyes flicked downwards involuntarily and he had to readjust the notebook in his lap again. Mick always got so hard when he talked about the fires, and this was no exception. He had noticed it the first time the man had been in his office. At first it seemed a fluke, but then it happened again. And again And again. There was clearly a link between the fires and arousal. Was that why he had had so much trouble getting help in the past? As a therapist, Stein knew that the habits that gave us sexual pleasure were the hardest to break.  It was important to break that bond between the fires and the release if Mick was to amend his behavior. He considered the best way to proceed. Maybe his own depravity could be useful here. “And what happened when you started the fire?”

 

Mick glared at him out of narrowed eyes. “Shit burned.”

 

Stein sighed softly. “I meant what happened to you. Did you stay and watch the fire?” he asked, though he didn’t need an answer to that. Of course Mick had stayed to watch his handy work. “How did you feel as you watched the fire consume everything?”

 

The man sat stock still, the only part of him that moved was his eyes, which were moving ceaselessly. The reaction was unexpected. He usually had a very predictable reaction to the use of the ‘f’ word in any of its connotations and frozen fear was not it. Stein pressed on, glad to have finally gotten a reaction out of him other than a grunt or a glare. “Did it turn you on?” he said, as delicately as possible. Mick widened his eyes in shock and continued not to move. “I see,” Stein replied. “What about after, did you masturbate?”

 

“I didn’t have to,” Mick replied, mouth barely opening enough to speak.

 

“And why is that?”

 

He shifted slightly on the couch, the briefest of moments. If Stein didn’t know any better, he would say that the man was embarrassed. “I nut in my pants,” he said, careful not to meet the therapist’s eyes. The response was only surprising because he had given it.

 

Stein tried to consider how he was supposed to put that down in his notes, but the image of the man in front of him getting so turned on by the flames that he came was difficult to push away. What part of it had turned him on, the destruction itself or the power to destroy? “Is that usually how it goes?” he asked carefully.

 

Mick shrugged, his first movement in what felt like hours. “Yeah.”

 

“How long before you started touching yourself?”

 

“Not sure. A couple fires later, maybe more.” He glanced around the room uncertainly. “It’s not the same without the fire.”

 

Stein didn’t need to ask him what the ‘it’ he was referring to was. “Do you find release difficult under normal circumstances?”

 

“I can get it up!” the man snapped.

 

Stein’s eyes flicked back to the bulge in his jeans. Clearly. “That wasn’t the question. Do you ever fail to achieve orgasm when you are attempting to if you haven’t set a fire?”

 

The pause was answer enough. “I see,” the therapist said slowly. “That is not unusual in these kinds of situations. Would you say that this is a frequent problem?”

 

“No,” Mick said, but the petulant note to his voice spoke a different story.

 

Stein spoke before he could consider his words. “Why don’t you show me,” he said.

 

There was a mild look of shock on Mick’s face that reverberated through the doctor’s whole being. How could he have even considered saying something like that to a patient? He cleared his throat, ready to apologize for his indiscretion, but before he could find the words to speak Mick reached down and freed himself from his pants. “Well, you’re certainly a big boy,” Stein murmured, unable to pull his eyes away.

 

Out in the open, Mick looked even harder than the bulge in his pants had suggested. It had to be painful. Even from a distance Stein could see the tiny drops of precome leaking out of the slit. His own cock twitched in sympathy. “Touch yourself for me.”

 

Mick wrapped his fist around his cock loosely and gave a few careful strokes. “Tell me about the first time you failed to achieve orgasm. Were you alone?”

 

The strokes became a little more pronounced as Mick nodded. “Describe it to me,” Stein told him.

 

“It was when I was in juvie. There was this kid, scrawny little thing but a fighter. I liked him.”

 

“Did he make you hard?” Stein asked, eyes following the motion of the hand.

 

“Harder than fire,” Mick admitted breathlessly.

 

“But when you stroked yourself as you thought about him you could never come?”

 

He shook his head violently, strokes fast and hard now. A desperate gasp fell from his lips. “I sucked him off once,” he groaned. “The taste of him…” His cock shook in his hands as he trailed off with an annoyed look.

 

“It’s okay, Take a deep breath. We have time.” Stein shifted in his seat, glad to see that Mick followed his instructions. “That’s it. Nice and steady. You liked having this boy in your mouth?” Mick nodded and his cock shook a little more. “Had you ever had another boy in your mouth before?”

 

“No,” Mick admitted, “Only that time.”

 

“You thought about sucking him again as you touched yourself? Or did you think of other things?”

 

“Other things.” His hand was going fast again, almost a blur as he chased a release that was unlikely to come. “His cock other places,” he admitted with a groan. “Never happened.”

 

Stein couldn’t help but hum softly in sympathy, He understood vividly what it was like to want something you could never have. “I want you to take a breath and talk me through what you wanted. You say that this boy made you even harder than you got when you were lighting fires. Did he know about what you wanted him to do to you?”

 

Mick nodded. “Never got to before we were released.” His fist tightened and he drug it slowly over his cock. “He’d never been with anyone before. I was going to be the first, but he was going to fuck me so good.” Mick gave a little moan as he said it. “He’d the only one who knew about the fire. Used to make me tell him what I’d done while I got myself off.”

 

Stein found the need to adjust himself, his own cock achingly hard. “Did that help you get off then, talking about your past fires?”

 

Mick nodded. “I can picture it, that look he’d get as I talked. ‘Tell me more,’ he’d say. Sometimes he’d even stroke himself too.” A soft gasp fell from his lips. “I told him about the barn, and he couldn’t believe it. ‘You nut in your pants? Didn’t even touch yourself?’ I remember he came when I told him yes. It got on me a little; it was warm like standing on the edge of a fire.” He gasped sharply and his cock shook as he managed to come himself.

 

“Very good,” Dr. Stein told him in his best professional voice. “We should revisit that next time you come in.”

 

Mick looked down at his twitching cock in surprise. There was no telling how long he needed a release before that had happened. “Can I try that again next time?” he asked, voice gruff but a little amazed at his luck.”

 

“Can you?” Stein asked impassively. “In fact, I demand it. That cock is too pretty not to be allowed to come when necessary. We will continue until you no longer need the fire at all.”

 

Mick nodded as he stuffed himself away. He still had an awestruck look on his face, like he had no idea that an orgasm was even possible before this. “Next week then doc?”

 

“Next week,” Stein replied, anxious for the man to leave. It occurred to him that he had his own stroking to do. “Looking forward to it,” he added as the man opened the door to leave. The door had barely closed behind him before Stein had his cock in his hand. Next week couldn’t come soon enough.


End file.
